


You Don't Know Me

by Kayleecole21



Category: Desus - Fandom, Jaryl, Paul Jesus Monroe, The Walking Dead (TV), daryl dixon - Fandom
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Desus - Freeform, Gay Sex, Jaryl - Freeform, M/M, Norman Reedus - Freeform, Paul jesus Monroe - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, daryl dixon - Freeform, rough anal sex, walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:29:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleecole21/pseuds/Kayleecole21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl attempts to sneak away for a run, only to have Jesus follow, and pry at his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unwanted Company

“What the hell are you doin’ in here?”  
Daryl had pulled the truck door open without glancing inside, throwing his canteen of water and a ziplock baggie of dried jerky onto the floorboard before even noticing the blue eyed man already riding shotgun.  
“Figured I could use a few things myself if you were going out. I try to never pass up an opportunity to scavenge.”  
Somehow, Jesus, in all his longhaired glory, had once again managed to give Rick the slip, and had wormed his way into the passenger seat of a truck that Daryl was sure had been locked.  
“I told ya, I don’t need backup; just runnin’ to look for smokes at a gas station a few miles away.” Daryl’s voice was gruff and clearly frustrated with this new comer who obviously was not one to pick up on dropped hints.  
“Nobody said you needed backup, I’m sure you’re fully capable of handling yourself; Rick is just rounding up the key members of your town, preparing for the discussion about attacking Negan, and I had nothing to do but wait around.”  
Still standing outside of the cab, one hand grasping the frame of the door, Daryl eyed Jesus through a mess of overgrown dark hair. Exhaling loudly, Daryl knew he was unlikely to convince Jesus to exit the vehicle, and with the Alexandrians already gathering around the outside of the painted white church, he knew he had limited time to run his errand.  
“Fine.”  
Daryl heaved himself into the cab, pulling the metal door closed quickly behind him with a loud thud. The engine engaging, Jesus instantly moved forward, pushing the power button for the currently silent stereo.  
“There ain’t nothin’ in there,” Daryl growled as he turned the corner, leaving the security of Alexandria in his rear view mirror. “I take the CDs out. Rick drives me insane with his goddamn twang shit.”  
Switching the knob back off, Jesus sat back up, turning his head to watch Daryl, who didn’t return his glance.  
“You two argue over road trip music? How…Normal.”  
“Yeah, Rick seems like a badass, until you trust him to make a goddamn mix for a supply run. Fuckin’ banjo shit.”  
Daryl was caught off guard when Jesus laughed at his minor Rick complaint, his shoulders twitching as the sound bounced around the cab of the truck.  
“It’s great that you still manage to have music preferences at the end of the world. I think I would be okay with anything. Before the dead started walking, I was never without headphones. I guess I was never really one for silence.”  
Daryl grunted a nonverbal response, obviously not wanting to participate in Jesus’ attempt at ‘get to know you’ banter.  
Staring at the overly tanned redneck for a few seconds, Jesus realized that a casual one on one conversation was not going to be Daryl’s forte.  
“You, however, do not strike me as the type to be bothered by silence.”  
Allowing himself a second, and no more; Daryl looked over at Jesus from the corner of his eye, unsurprised to find the bearded man watching his body language.  
“How’d you get in this truck, anyway? I know I locked the shit last time I was in here,” Daryl asked, obviously becoming annoyed by the fact that chatter was interrupting his solace.  
“Probably the same way that I swiped the keys from Rick when we first met, the way that I slipped those ropes you tied me with; and it likely had something to do with how I escaped the locked quarters I was left in when you brought me to your town,” Jesus spoke to the glass as he watched field and tree pass by the window, a single walker meandering through a nearby clearing.  
“We all have talents, Daryl.”  
“Yeah? Those talents why people call you Jesus? Can ya walk on water too?”  
Laying his forearm across the top of the steering wheel, Daryl watched the deserted road ahead of him; visually not giving Jesus the time of day.  
“If I could walk on water, I would have saved that truck before it sank.”  
His tone was light and had an air of comedy to it; however, Daryl did not take the bait, obviously still bitter about the loss of cargo.  
“Yeah, I think my knack for getting in and out of things probably has to do with the generous nickname… but maybe it’s because I always try to be a mediator whenever conflict arises up at Hillside,” Jesus said, now accompanying Daryl in the task of staring blankly at the pavement ahead.  
“Or you know, maybe it’s just the beard and the hair.”  
It was finally the last quip that coaxed a small, low chuckled from Daryl’s chest.  
“So, who were you before the world ended? I’m guessing mechanic? Maybe a gruff but loveable bartender?”  
Daryl rolled his eyes, exasperated at himself for laughing and giving Jesus the idea that he was safe to move the conversation forward.  
“No. Neither.”  
“Married?”  
“No.”  
“Kids?”  
“Nah. Never.”  
Waiting for a moment, maybe testing to see if Daryl would actually ask him anything about him, Jesus shrugged and continued.  
“Wow, you’re quite the open book, Daryl. I really appreciate the insight into what kind of man I’m riding with.”  
“I never asked you to come, in fact I told ya not to. I ain’t got any interesting stories about my past. I never had a lot to lose when everyone started dyin’.”  
“Yeah? And what about after?”  
Daryl felt his shoulders stiffen at Jesus’ words. A girl with blonde hair and pale skin danced across his memory and he felt his throat run dry.  
“I’ve found that people appreciate things 1000 times more than they did before the world ended, which makes it all the worse when they’re gone.”  
“We’re here.”  
Daryl turned quickly, twisting the wheel harder than needed.  
They pulled into a grimy, yet surprisingly well intact, gas station. Although the gas pumps seemed to be drained long ago, the inside of the store seemed fairly untouched.  
Yanking open the small bolt lock with ease, Daryl made his way into the dark building; his hand perched readily on his gun. Taking the time to thoroughly check the area, Daryl began picking up odds and ends from around the sprawled shelves, throwing them into a brown knapsack that he had pulled from the bed of the truck after parking.  
“Condoms, huh?” Jesus raised an eyebrow at Daryl, questioning the latest item he had quickly nabbed. “Better safe than sorry, huh?”  
Daryl exhaled harshly, scoffing at the observation.  
“Fer the pantry back home. How many babies can we keep havin’ in there anyway?”  
“Hmm, I see.” Jesus leaned against the doorframe as he spoke, still watching Daryl loot. “Isn’t that eventually the point though? Repopulation?”  
“Yeah. I guess. It’d be great if it didn’t happen all at once though. Shit is messy enough as it is.”  
“You know those things expire?” Jesus’ voice was mocking and Daryl slowly turned to look at his casual observer.  
“Well it’d probably be better than nothin’.”  
“Oh no, I disagree. In my personal experience, nothing has always felt much better.”  
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Daryl blew a dirty lock of hair from his eyes.  
“Why did ya come? Huh? You just here to bust my balls? ‘Cause you ain’t doin’ shit but standin’ around.”  
“No, I actually wanted to come and get to know you a little bit better, you know, since the first time we met you knocked me unconscious.”  
“You were stealin’ our shit! Twice!”  
“Mistakes were made on both sides, not the point…”  
Daryl gave a frustrated laugh, floored at Jesus’ interpretation of events.  
“-but you know,” Jesus continued, ignoring Daryl’s scoff, “this trip has given me the distinct impression that you take this little excursions to be by yourself.”  
“Yeah? What gave it away?” Daryl was losing his patience and the sarcasm was running thick in his words.  
“I bet you really miss that bike of yours, huh? Must have made it a lot easier to take off without company.”  
“Holy shit. Where do you get off, huh? Thinkin’ you know shit about me?! You don’t know jack.”  
“I know that you like being by yourself because that was how you spent your pre-apocalyptic life. I also know that the only reason you have stuck around with this group is because they’re the first people you’ve ever cared about, yet time to time you still get frustrated and take off.”  
“Well look at you… Did ya run a damn daytime talk show before yer audience all got eaten?”  
Jesus again erupted with laughter that caught Daryl off guard, and he was instantly irritated once again at this man finding humor in his annoyance.  
“What if I told ya that none of that shit that you said was true? What if I told ya that I did have a wife, and a kid, and that I worked manual fuckin’ labor; and that I lied to your smart ass because I don’t fuckin’ know or trust you?”  
Daryl spoke through gritted teeth and stalked several paces forward, becoming dangerously close to Jesus, obviously asserting his physical dominance.  
“Oh you’d be lying if you said that, Daryl.”  
Jesus seemed overly confident and completely unfazed by Daryl’s unspoken challenge, which only further enraged him.  
“How the fuck would you know?!” Daryl’s voice had escalated now, and he had taken one more step forward, his nose just over an inch from Jesus’.  
“I know because you are practically the poster boy for childhood trauma. You’re untrusting and harsh; you’re fiercely independent and constantly feel the need to prove your strength and importance to your people; likely due to the fact that you were horribly neglected at a young age, and when they finally did get around to paying attention to you, they probably beat the absolute shit out of you.”  
Unable to see absolutely anything but red, Daryl shoved Jesus in the chest with both hands, knocking him backwards into the glass pane of the door.  
“You don’t fuckin’ know me-“  
Before Daryl could get another word out, Jesus had bounced back from the door, quickly moving forward and grabbing onto Daryl’s face with both hands, harshly throwing his mouth over his, forcing the tip of his tongue into Daryl’s open mouth before he was thrown to the side.  
Livid and without hesitation, Daryl threw his fist into Jesus, catching him in the left side of his jaw and knocking him several steps backwards.  
There was a pause; a moment where Jesus gripped his jaw in the palm of his hand, rubbing it, yet still daring to look Daryl straight in the eyes unapologetically.  
Within a single second, Daryl had lunged forward, grabbing Jesus violently and knocking him into a decaying display of Hostess pastries; their mouths gasping desperately against one another; their tongues a hot mess, moving luridly from one mouth to the other, each man attempting to orally take control.  
Jesus stepped into Daryl, their torsos making contact; and took instant note of the solidness that pushed against his leg as their bodies touched.  
Daryl was hungrily devouring Jesus’ mouth, sucking at his tongue and raising a well callused hand to pull hard at the hair closest to his scalp, erupting a generous moan from Jesus’ lips.  
Provoked and feeding his desire to keep up with the quickly growing escalation, Jesus threw his own hand down between their pelvises, grabbing the girth that lay trapped beneath worn denim. Rubbing and pushing, Jesus watched as Daryl’s eyes clenched shut; his breath caught somewhere deep in his chest; obviously relishing in the first contact his cock had seen in over two years.  
Moving his hand down, Jesus felt the softer masses below Daryl’s erection, cupping them through his jeans rolling them in the palm of his hand.  
“Fuck…”  
Daryl’s entire body gave way to a dangerous convulsion, every muscle in his body twitching at once.  
Opening his eyes, Daryl gripped Jesus by the shoulders, forcing him backwards several feet before flipping him around towards the counter where the register sat.  
Palms spread across the dusty surface, Jesus felt Daryl force his faded denim down around his thighs, exposing the milky skin of his ass. Jesus took in a deep, quick breath as the sound of Daryl fumbling with his belt met his ears.  
Turning around just in time, Jesus caught the crude sight of Daryl licking up the palm of his own hand, dampening his palm before pulling hard on his now freed and fully erect cock.  
For the briefest of moments, Jesus felt the tip of Daryl’s engorged head make contact with the tight ring of muscles that sat around his entry; the pressure and anticipation becoming more than he could mentally take.  
“Jesus Christ, fuck me Daryl!”  
Snapping his hips forward in a powerful thrust, Daryl entered Jesus’ tightly clenched channel with no further hesitation.  
“Fuck!”  
Jesus gripped the countertop until his knuckles turned white, while biting his bottom lip, trying desperately to adjust to Daryl’s size; tragically caught between asking him to stop and begging him to go faster.  
“Spread yer fuckin’ legs wider.” Daryl’s voice came to him through clenched teeth as he kicked each of Jesus’ boots with his own, forcing each leg to move further out.  
Pulling himself back before viciously forcing himself back in, Daryl began an animalistic rhythm of penetration, each deeper than the last.  
The pain quickly subsiding into mind warping pleasure, Jesus found himself moving with Daryl, forcing himself back as best he could, wanting and waiting for the thick tip of Daryl’s member to make contact with the tight pressure point that sat within him.  
Slightly dropping his hips and changing the angle, Jesus felt Daryl move against the patch of gathered nerves and he could do nothing to stop Daryl’s name plummeting out of his mouth repeatedly.  
Growling with each movement of his hips, Daryl watched himself exit and enter Jesus’ perked and pale ass, showing him everything he had deprived himself of for so long.  
The air of the abandoned shop was now filled with broken, panted breaths and the lurid sound of skin on skin contact.  
Taking a tight and sudden hold of Jesus’ shoulder, Daryl gave himself new and more powerful leverage as he forced the blue-eyed, longhaired man down on his rigid cock; sliding him up and down, making him realize that his euphoric cliff was fast approaching.  
Jesus had fallen flat onto the countertop as Daryl pulled him back and fourth, his eyes clenched and his mouth slack; his own dick rock hard and convulsing violently each time Daryl entered him.  
“Don’t stop… Don’t fucking stop!”  
Abandoning his shoulder and pulling Jesus up from the counter top by his hair, Daryl threw his hips against him, fucking him to the hilt, making sure that Jesus felt every single thing Daryl had to offer.  
“You…Don’t…Fuckin’…tell…me….”  
Daryl’s words caught in his throat and he couldn’t stop. He had driven himself to the point of no return. He dropped Jesus back onto the counter and plummeted himself violently into him; chasing an orgasm that he had never needed so badly in his life.  
“Daryl…Daryl! Fuck! I’m gonna…”  
Jesus lost the ability to see, hear, or think. His mind was engulfed in a climax that he had fantasied about from the moment that Daryl had tackled him in that field. He felt his own hot release coat his thighs and run down his legs, all while Daryl still fucked him, unable to stop until he had had his.  
“Say my name…”  
Jesus, still unable to fully comprehend the words that came from Daryl’s mouth, didn’t respond.  
“Say my fuckin’ name!”  
Jolted from his euphoria, Jesus obliged, wanting nothing more than to feel Daryl clench and come inside of him.  
“Daryl! Daryl! Fuck! Ride me, baby. Come for me, Daryl. I need to feel you come!”  
Every muscle went painfully rigid and Daryl finally let himself go. He released violently, shaking from head to toe as he gasped and choked.  
Taking a single moment to bask in his climax, Daryl quickly rejoined reality and pulled himself back into his pants, quickly tightening his belt.  
Standing up and looking down at the imprints he had left in the dust on the counter, Jesus turned around just in time to see Daryl pick up his worn and stained bag and bolt through the door.  
Jesus followed, buttoning his jeans and Daryl jumped into the cab of the truck, obviously fleeing from the events that had just transpired.  
Jesus smirked and shook his head before running towards the vehicle as Daryl revved the engine to life, hopping into the bed of the truck just as Daryl hit the gas and peeled out of the parking lot.


	2. Chapter Two: Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning to Alexandria from their victory against Negan, Daryl and Jesus finally find some time to discuss what is or is not going on between them.

Chapter Two:

“You know where the hell you’re goin’?” The heat from Daryl’s gruff voice hit Jesus’ ear as the well-worn redneck bent down behind him while he steered the over crowded RV quickly down the deserted highway.  
“Yes, I’m fairly certain…” Jesus’ voice trailed off as he slightly turned the large steering wheel, maneuvering the high-speed vehicle away from a lone walker off to the right side of the road.  
“’Fairly certain’, ain’t shit. If we’re goin’ in the wrong direction we’re wastin’ time!” Daryl’s mocking of his well-spoken tone made a faint smile cross his flat mouth before he fell back into the urgency of the situation.  
“Back off, okay? I know what I’m doing. If you think you could do a better job driving to a possible secret local, then by all means, let me know.”  
Daryl straightened back up, looked Jesus up and down, then turned and sat at the top of the stairs by the RV’s entrance.  
The attack on Negan’s compound had been an excruciatingly brutal success, leaving every opponent dead and zero causalities from their own group. However, while storming the base, Maggie and Carol, who had been waiting outside, were taken by a small group of Negan’s followers.  
Rick had offered the woman with the cracked and grating voice who spoke over the walkie a fair deal; Carol and Maggie for their last man standing; Primo, who they had caught mid escape one non other than Daryl’s motorcycle, which they had quickly hidden before retreating to the RV.  
Once the line of communication went silent, Rick had instantly taken that as a sign of retreat, and knew that they had to move quickly in hopes of finding their captive women.  
Glenn was sitting to Jesus in the passenger’s seat, his posture bent forward, his eyes on the road. Rick could be heard further back, threatening Primo with everything he could muster, repeatedly beating him and demanding that he tell them exactly where they were supposed to be heading.  
“Rick!” Jesus turned to look at Glenn as the Asian man suddenly yelled without turning around.  
“Yeah?”  
“We need him alive if we’re going to make a trade.”  
Glenn still sat forward, not daring for even a moment to look away from the path ahead, the path that would lead to his wife.  
“We need him to tell us where we’re going.”  
“Even if he does, we can’t trust a thing he says…” Glenn’s voice dropped several octaves, “We’ll have to find them on our own.”  
Jesus eyed Glenn quickly before pushing harder on the already floored gas pedal.

 

“We’re here.”  
Pulling up on an abandoned slaughterhouse, Jesus parked several hundred feet back, making sure that their vehicle could not be spotted from any windows.  
“How do you know?” Glenn’s voice was eerily calm and quiet. These were the first words he had spoken since Rick had agreed to meet the woman on the walkie in an open field ten miles from their current location.  
“I passed this place once, I saw the same truck parked outside that I had seen Negan’s men driving before. I figured if they did have supplies and a hide out, this would be the closest one.”  
There was no point in even asking Glenn if he would rather drive ahead to the agreed upon meeting place; his silence already told everyone in the RV that he would rather bet on the element of surprise.  
Grabbing hold of the gun that had been laid across his lap, Glenn suddenly stood up and headed immediately for the RV door, which Daryl was still sitting in front of.  
“Let’s go.”  
Glenn’s direction was all any of them needed, strapped with ammunition and weapons galore, pulling Primo behind them, the group marched single file from the vehicle, all crouching down as they moved towards the large door, being cautious to avoid being seen from anyone inside.  
Glenn, Rick, and Daryl taking the lead; the three men shoved their weight up against the aged door, and moved inside quickly as it gave way. Jesus and the rest of the lineup had not even made it into the entryway before the sound of Maggie’s voice met their ears.  
Walking into the dimly lit, horrendous smelling area, Jesus breathed a long sigh of relief as he watched Maggie fall into her husband’s arms. Daryl hugged and consoled and obviously disturbed Carol who quietly told them all that not a single Survivor was left standing in the slaughterhouse.  
“All your friends are dead. So who’s Negan? Was he here? Or at the base?”  
Primo smiled slyly before saying, “Both. I’m Negan.”  
Jesus stared at Rick, knowing full well what was about to happen.  
“I’m sorry it had to go down this way.”  
Pulling the trigger had obviously become something that Rick had made peace with long ago, and was now nothing more than a necessary part of any given confrontation.  
“You think he was Negan?” Daryl’s voice was low, a mere growl after the sound of the gun shot bounce off of the brick walls.  
“I doubt it.”  
Daryl looked up, his arm still around Carol, and locked eyes with Jesus, who raised a single eyebrow in response to his own words before turning around and walking out the way they came.

 

Being welcomed back into Alexandria was a calming relief. Even though they all wore the knowledge that Negan was likely still out there, having taken a serious bite out of his numbers was a strong moral booster.  
Spreading information of their victory with random groups of gathered neighbors was wearing Jesus thin; making him want nothing more than to let his mind drift and his body rest, anywhere he could find to lay.  
Abandoning his fellow assassins, Jesus quietly made his way back to the church, knowing that it was likely only a matter of time before Father Gabriel followed him. Discarding his hat and jacket before kicking off his boots, Jesus just hoped that he could fall unconscious before the overly talkative man of faith walked through the door.  
Positioning himself across a long bench, Jesus laid down on his back, his arms crossing behind his head. After everything that they had accomplished today, Jesus still could not seem to shake the feeling that it had not been enough. He knew, but was not fully willing to admit, that there was still a long, bloody road ahead of them before they could actually consider themselves ‘safe.’  
The pale white ceiling faded from his vision as Jesus’ eyelids softly closed, his thoughts leaving the impending threat, and turning over to Daryl, who although had barely given him the time of day since their brash encounter in the gas station, had undeniably locked eyes with him much longer than he should have back at the slaughterhouse.  
Feeling as if he had just closed his eyes, Jesus heard the door of the church open, and then click shut quietly. He didn’t dare give any indication that he might be awaken, knowing that Gabriel would look for any reason to talk long into the night.  
“Hey.”  
Something had nudged his knee, and he knew instantly that that low voice did not belong to the Father.  
Opening one eye first, followed by the other, Jesus looked up into the filthy face of Daryl Dixon, who was standing above him, gun still strapped to his belt.  
“Yeah?”  
“What the hell are ya doin’ in here?” Daryl looked around the empty church, “Prayin’?”  
It was Daryl’s eyebrow that rose this time, and Jesus succumbed to a subtle smile and a light eye roll.  
“Despite the name, no. I was sleeping…kind of.” Jesus sat up, scratching the back of his head.  
“Why are ya sleepin’ in the church?” Daryl asked, still standing.  
“Figured a church was free game, I don’t have a place here, and the last thing I’d want to do was impose… on anyone…” Jesus’ voice trailed off quietly before he looked up at Daryl, who instantly became uncomfortable and looked out the window.  
“Don’t worry, Daryl. The last thing I’d do is show up at your door, wanting to spend the night like some one night stand that couldn’t take a hint,” Jesus said, giving way to a tired laugh.  
“Yeah I didn’t think ya would; didn’t expect ya to be in here though.”  
“Where else would you look for ‘Jesus’?”  
Daryl’s gruff laugh caught Jesus off guard, but allowed him to let loose a laugh himself.  
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never gone lookin’.”  
“Neither have I, but look at you… There’s a first time for everything.”  
“Yeah…” Daryl’s shoulders stiffened and Jesus knew he had instantly fallen back into awkwardness, “I guess there is…”  
After a long pause, Jesus spoke, unable to stay awake through the silence.  
“Look, if you came here to tell me that you’re ‘not gay’, and it was a ‘heat of the moment thing’, or that ‘I can’t tell anyone,’ and it ‘meant nothing,’ I’ve heard the whole narrative before. You don’t have to waste your breath, or my sleep. I’m not going to tell your buddy, Rick what happened.”  
Jesus didn’t know if it was exhaustion catching up with him, but several seconds later he realized how harsh his words had been, and that Daryl had not spoken, nor moved since he said them.  
Jesus slowly stood up, bringing himself to the same height as Daryl, trying to catch his glance, before realizing that Daryl had no intention of looking him in the eye.  
“You weren’t going to give me any of those bullshit excuses, were you…?” Jesus’ voice was quiet and tame as he murmured to Daryl in the dark church.  
“Nah, but why waste my breath, right? There you go, thinkin’ again that you know a damn thing about me.”  
“Daryl, I…” Jesus started, however he was quickly cut off.  
“You got a real fuckin’ smart mouth on you, ya know that? Always talkin’ like you know everythin’ about everyone. There ain’t a damn thing in this world that Jesus don’t know or couldn’t get out of, huh? You rely on your mouth to get you outta anythin’.” Daryl’s voice was loud, harsh, and carried a dangerous tone, making Jesus a little curious whether or not Daryl was going to attempt to fight him again.  
“So, why not for once, in your entire damn life, you shut yer fuckin’ mouth, and let me fuck you already?”  
It took a moment for Jesus to fully process the end of Daryl’s sentence, being as it was literally the last thing he expected to hear come from his mouth. Watching Daryl’s every movement, trying to read his intent, Jesus decided that he would not, in fact, keep his mouth closed.  
“No,” Jesus’ voice was staggeringly firm and domineering as he spoke. “This is not an Alpha, Beta situation, Daryl. This is a you-want-to-be-top-you-better-fucking-take-it situation; and I want you, so I’m gonna take you.”  
Leaving no room for argument or protest, Jesus shoved Daryl backwards.  
An animalistic growl escaped Daryl’s mouth as his back met plaster, only to be quickly spun around. His cheek pressed against the pristinely white wall, he felt gloved hands reach around his waist before moving down over his denim-entrapped cock.  
“Daryl, you got some nerve, walking into a church, rock fucking hard like that.”  
A labored breath escaped from Daryl’s slack jaw as he pushed his hips forwards into Jesus’ hand.  
“I never really was the religious type…” Daryl huffed against the flat surface.  
“Could have fooled me, you feel pretty fucking enthused to be here,” Jesus finished his sentence by grabbing Daryl through his pants and pushing up and down violently, giving him a taste of friction that would only feed his hunger to get off.  
Feeling Daryl’s cock convulse through his jeans sent a shockwave down Jesus’ spine, quickly followed by a sudden pressure against his own zipper.  
Yanking the filthy denim down tightly around his thighs, Jesus exposed Daryl’s pale but firm ass in the moonlight coming through the windowpane.  
“Now that is something to waste sleep over…” Jesus muttered under his own breath, his voice barely audible to Daryl.  
Removing the glove from his right hand, Jesus offered his empty palm to Daryl, who was still firmly held up against the wall.  
“Spit.”  
Daryl coughed loudly before spitting crudely into Jesus’ open hand, giving him more than adequate lubrication.  
Unzipping his fly, Jesus barley had to move before his solid member escaped its confinement. Quickly pumping himself up and down with several long, twisted strokes, Jesus grunted loudly. Gathering any left over saliva, Jesus spread Daryl’s perked cheeks and rubbed the moisture against his tightened entrance.  
The mere contact against his ass drove Daryl insane, but it was nothing compared to when Jesus suddenly pushed two, then three digits past his ring of muscle.  
“Ah, fuck!” Daryl’s vocalization of Jesus’ entry fueled his fire; something about hearing the man of few words cry out as Jesus spread his channel was euphoric to him.  
Pumping his hand in and out several times was all it took for Daryl to be ready and writhing for something more.  
Lining himself up with Daryl’s entrance, Jesus wasted no time in pushing his cock completely inside of Daryl, leaving any notion of tameness long behind.  
“Jesus!”  
Unsure of whether or not Daryl had been calling out his name, or cursing, neither stopped Jesus’ eyes from rolling back in his head at the tightness surrounding his all too neglected manhood.  
Pulling himself nearly out, leaving just the tip of his dick inside of Daryl’s warm channel, Jesus hesitated for a moment, teasing Daryl, testing him with how badly he wanted this.  
“Come on! Fucking deeper!”  
Pushing his shoulders firmly against the wall, Jesus held Daryl in place while he began the rhythmic torture of fucking him. Each penetration deeper and harder than the last, Jesus felt every muscle in Daryl’s back contract and release as he played and pushed against a nerve that he wondered whether or not it had ever been touched before.  
Daryl let out a lurid mix of whines, moans, grunts, and profanities and he felt hot evidence of his arousal leak up onto his stomach, the engorged head of his cock twitching dangerously against his pelvis.  
“Fuck! Harder!”  
Falling victim to Daryl’s coaxing, Jesus slammed his hips against his ass, fucking him in a vivid desperation that had put all his previous sexual exploits to shame. Daryl, chanting his name lowly, sweat pooling at the small of his back, made Jesus all too aware of the fact that he had never actually been more sexually attracted to another man in his life. He suddenly became violently aware at how much he wanted to tear him apart.  
Forcing his left hand up and into Daryl’s filthy mess of hair, Jesus clung tightly to the strands closest to his scalp, pulling the redneck’s head back while he plummeted into his ached and convulsing channel.  
“You like that?”  
Daryl let out a loud grunt.  
“Tell me you fuckin’ like my cock inside of you or I’ll pull the fuck out!”  
“Christ! Yes! I like it! I like it! Just don’t stop!”  
Jesus suddenly saw a shadow move outside along the window, then saw the outline of a few Alexandrians walking by.  
The head of Jesus’ leaking cock brushed against Daryl’s hot spot and the man beneath him grunted too loudly to be ignored.  
The shadows stopped and whispered.  
Jesus instantly realized that they more than likely heard the grunting and feared the worst. If he didn’t say something, soon the whole town may be surrounding their lustful evening.  
Leaning forward and offering Daryl the cuff of his jacket, Jesus barked quietly into his ear; “Bite down on this if you can’t be quiet.”  
“I can…”  
Rolling his eyes and cutting Daryl off before he could even finish his sentence, Jesus thrust his hips forward and once again grazed Daryl’s prostate, coaxing a vicious groan from his lungs, which he instantly tried to pass off as a cough.  
“You fucking can’t; now bite the fuck down so I can finish fucking that pretty little ass of yours.”  
Pulling himself to the brink of Daryl’s channel, Jesus slowly pushed himself back in, allowing for his cock to take its time in stretching Daryl, driving him insane in the process; his teeth gritted down against his jacket.  
“Ladies? Sorry, I just rolled off the bench in my sleep. Didn’t mean to…scare you.” Jesus’ voice cracked at the end of his sentence; his torture game of teasing Daryl had turned against him as he attempted to speak to the strangers outside.  
“Oh, alright! Thanks; get some sleep Mr. Rovia  
The shadows walked away just as Daryl leaned back and slammed his own ass down on Jesus’ thick cock.  
“Fuck!”  
“You gonna talk to the neighbors all night or are you gonna fuckin’ ride me, huh?” Daryl’s tone was taunting and Jesus fell for the bait.  
“Shut up,” Jesus grunted as he resumed his hold on Daryl’s hair and watched his cock move in and out of Daryl’s ass.  
Jesus could feel Daryl’s heat clench around him every time he moved and he knew it would be a mad dash to the finish line, deciding which of them would succumb to their climax first.  
Pressing his body tightly against Daryl’s back, Jesus fucked Daryl deeply from a new angle before leaning forward and biting down hard on his neck.  
“Oh, mother fucker!” The words came roaring past Daryl’s lips as Jesus bounced on the balls of his feet, pushing his cock further and further into Daryl, fucking him in a way that he knew would push him over the edge.  
“You gonna come for me, Daryl? Huh? You gonna get off on my cock?” Jesus grunted crudely into Daryl’s ear before licking the long way up the side of his neck.  
“Fuck! Yes! Fuck, I’m gonna… shit… I’m coming…”  
Jesus continued to fuck Daryl through every stage of his orgasm, watching the gruff, strong man convulse violently as he gave into his euphoria.  
Unable to take the over stimulation any longer, Daryl pulled himself from Jesus’ still solid cock, looking down at it, then back up into the blue eyes that never seemed to not make him hot.  
“Does it look like you’re fucking done?” Jesus’ voice was broken and desperate and the last thing he wanted to do was jerk himself off if Daryl ran away again.  
Not speaking a word, Daryl blew a strand of hair from his eyes before dropping to his knees. Taken completely by surprise, Jesus stared down at Daryl in silent astonishment as the redneck grasped a dirty palm around his girth.  
“Ah!” Jesus moaned loudly as Daryl twisted his worn hands around the thick head of Jesus’ cock. Then, without looking up or uttering a word, Daryl popped the head of Jesus’ cock inside his mouth, bobbing against it, his tongue delving into the salty slit.  
“Holy shit!” Jesus had never been more surprised by something in his life, and had never felt himself give way to an orgasm so quickly.  
His legs turned to concrete as he watched Daryl suck his cock, gagging himself on it shamelessly. He knew he was going to come hard, and he wanted to give some kind of option.  
“Daryl… Fuck! Daryl! Stop, I’m gonna come!”  
Jesus attempted to pull himself from Daryl’s mouth, only to have Daryl’s tanned arms grab his hips and hold him in place, his mouth suctioned tightly around his member, his tongue swirling against his erupting head.  
Jesus’ body went rigid and his eyes clenched shut; his gut twisted and his breathing stopped dead in its tracks. Hot, salted nectar sprung into Daryl’s mouth, washing over his tongue before traveling down his throat. Daryl milked Jesus for everything he was worth, lapping at his head and sucking at his softening cock; making damn sure that there was nothing left for him to bitch about.  
Jesus heaved ragged breathes as his legs gave out and he fell, bare assed, against the bench below them.  
“Holy fuck.”  
Daryl crawled up onto the bench sitting down next to Jesus, the both of them staring ahead blankly.  
“Mr. Rovia?” Daryl’s cracked laughter finally broke the heavy, heated silence.  
“Not all of the devout are willing to actually call me, ‘Jesus’, you know.”  
Daryl looked ahead a moment longer before grunting and clearing his throat.  
“So… I guess this is kind of an Alpha, Alpha situation then?”


End file.
